


In Dreams I See You

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is not the only angel with an affinity for Sam’s dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams I See You

His dreams are a chaotic blend of colors that blend and mix and move and spin…so many colors, in so many hues and shades. There are colors that don’t even exist in the spectrum of the world that he knows, colors that if he were awake, his mind would be completely unable to process. But here, in his dream, they are beautiful, and all he can do is stare at the ever-changing canvas around him.

He reaches out to one particular swirling mass, and his eyes widen with a child-like sense of awe, face glowing with enchantment as the colors come apart like mist and wrap around his hand, flowing up his arm with the tranquility of a lazy stream of water.

It is while he is playing with these colors, laughing in delight as they move about and around him, that he is suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that he is no longer alone. Before his eyes, the colors around him darken, becoming shades of fear and pain and sadness. Unease wells up inside of him and he turns slowly.

Lucifer stands there, a smirk playing about his lips, his arms crossed over his chest casually, so casually, as though he believes himself to be right where he belongs. He glances around, and there is laughter in his eyes when they turn back to Sam. “Pretty,” he says shortly, condescendingly. “What’s next, A-B-C’s and one-two-three’s?”

“What do you want?” Sam asks, and he cringes when he can already detect the defeat in his tone. Because really, how much longer is he expected to be able to take this? It’s every night now, _every single night_ , and he just doesn’t have the strength to keep battling Lucifer in his mind.

“Playtime is over, Sam,” the Devil replies, smirk broadening. “You must know by now you can’t run from me forever. You _will_ say yes to me, soon.”

“Won’t happen,” Sam growls, but he no longer sounds as confident as he once did, no longer trusts himself to follow the path he knows he needs to.

“Won’t it?” Lucifer asks, false tranquility in his eyes and voice. “It seems to me that it very much _will_. Your brother and his angel pet left you to track down a weapon they mistakenly believe will kill me, and they haven’t called you in days. Do you truly believe Dean cares at all? That either of them do? Or Bobby…you’ve told him all about these dreams, haven’t you? And all he’s given you are ridiculous platitudes, promises that ‘it will all be okay, Sam, we’ll figure this out’.” He scoffs. “You are a pebble in a churning ocean, Sam Winchester, and you are alone. The only one who will help you, the only one who truly cares, is _me_.”

Sam feels the crushing weight of truth bearing down on him, all his insecurities, all his fears and doubts and hidden terrors, crushing him, _beating_ on him, and he falls to his hands and knees, tears slipping from his eyes, and prays for something, _anything_ to prove the Devil wrong.

And for the first time in Sam’s entire life, his prayer is answered, by, of all things, a burst of sharp laughter. _Familiar_ laughter, and he does not dare raise his eyes, afraid that if he does, he will be proven wrong. Because this…this seems almost impossible.

“Leave now, little brother,” he hears, and the voice is as familiar as the laughter, but the tone…he’s never heard that voice use that tone. It’s razor-sharp, dangerous, _lethal_ …it is his hope, his salvation, everything he no longer thought he was worthy of.

“Gabriel,” Lucifer says, voice thick with derision.

The name, spoken aloud, confirming what he hardly dared hope could be true, is enough to make Sam look up. The being he once knew as the Trickster stands to his right, a power Sam cannot understand coursing through him, framing his features in a light that should burn, but only soothes.

“You do not belong here, Lucifer,” the archangel says softly. “You are not _welcome_ here. _Leave now._ I will not ask again.”

The colors, which had been dulled and muted by Lucifer’s presence, return with a bright vengeance, bursting force in the periphery of Sam’s vision, like lightning strikes of radiance against the darkness that stands so close. Sam is overcome, doesn’t know whether to quake with terror or sob with gratitude or simply hide.

Lucifer’s eyes flash with an anger that burns and his jaw clenches. “You cannot protect him forever, _brother_. You will not stop destiny.”

“I am taking this boy as my charge,” Gabriel replies, and Sam’s eyes widen, his breath catches in his throat. “I’ll do what I have to to protect him. I _dare_ you to continue these games _now_.”

There is a burst of brilliant light, so blinding that Sam is sure he’ll never see again, and it is accompanied by a scream of rage that threatens to deafen him as well. Moments later, all is quiet again, leaving his ears ringing but still whole, and slowly his vision sharpens and the colors return, swirling together around him once more.

Gabriel is crouched in front of him, head cocked as he studies the hunter. “Are you all right?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head slowly, trying to form a single coherent thought. “I don’t understand,” he says, his voice cracking.

The archangel grins, some of his more recognizable humor bleeding into his expression. “Maybe you’re not supposed to,” is his response, and at Sam’s look, he barks with laughter. It is light and carefree and everything Sam can’t possibly comprehend in the circumstances. “I can’t help it. There’s something about you Winchesters, something about _you_ , Sam. You make me… Well, you don’t really make me _miss_ home. You make me feel like I _am_ home.”

And that…there’s nothing Sam can say to that, nothing that won’t sound trite, and too small to express what he really _wants_ to say. He swallows, eyes still wide as the angel lifts a hand and traces gentle fingers over his jaw and cheekbones. The specters of color closest to Sam flare brightly, and make Gabriel’s eyes sparkle with warmth.

“C’mon. What do you say we get outta here and go find your brother? If they’re after Michael’s _actual_ sword, they’re gonna need some help.

Sam nods because he can’t possibly do anything else, watches Gabriel’s hand move, two fingers raised to press to his forehead –

~

– He wakes to a world as bright and alive with color as the one he left behind, and for the first time in so long, with an angel at his side and all of Heaven and Hell ranged against them, Sam smiles.


End file.
